


origins of a self-professed monster

by i_wont_fall_asleep



Series: always with one wing dipped in blood [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Classist Overtones, Coran is a good butler, First Meetings, Gen, Keith is sorta a dick, Lance is sunshine, Set before the events of 'ghosts coming unburied', Shiro is Tired and wants them to get along, thinly veiled attempts at foreshadowing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2016-08-17
Packaged: 2018-08-09 08:06:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7793827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_wont_fall_asleep/pseuds/i_wont_fall_asleep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Keith tried to wrack his memory to recall if Shiro had said anything about an obnoxiously upbeat child and why one would be here in the manor introducing himself—after nearly knocking into him at the bottom of the stairs. He came up blank."</p>
            </blockquote>





	origins of a self-professed monster

“because not all monsters were monsters in the beginning.” 

_-_ fredrik backman , _my grandmother asked me to tell you she’s sorry_

* * *

“Hi,” The kid stuck his hand out, all perk, “I’m Lance! Although you probably already knew that-”

Keith cut the kid- _Lance_ \- off, “No, I didn’t.”

His bright smile falter for a moment before turning back to its hundred watts, “Oh, are, um, are you sure? I’m Lance McClain. I’m Shiro’s new partner!”

Keith tried to wrack his memory to recall if Shiro had said anything about an obnoxiously upbeat child and why one would be here in the manor introducing himself—after nearly knocking into him at the bottom of the stairs. He came up blank.

“No, I don’t recall.” Keith narrowed his eyes, “Wait, how old are you?”

“I’m fourteen.” The kid burst with pride.

“Look, kid, I don’t know what possessed Shiro to think that taking on a child who hasn’t gone through puberty yet was a good idea but-”

Lance gave an indignant squawk, “How old are you? Sixteen?”

“Old enough.” Keith shrugged his shoulders, “I’ve been in this game a long time and I’m telling you that Gotham’s streets will chew up and spit out a little kid like you.”

Lance looked away, his face flushed and hands clenched.

Keith winced _, Fuck, I hurt his feelings. Shiro is definitely going to be pissed._

“Look, um,” He rubbed at the back of his neck, “I’m not trying to be a dick it’s just. You seem like a nice kid and I would hate to see something bad happen to you.”

“How would you know?” Lance’s voice barely above a whisper.

“Excuse me?” Keith was confused

Lance finally made eye contact, a hard and steely look in his cool blues, “How do you know that I’m a ‘nice kid’? You barely have met me and you’re already making judgments.”

“I just-”

“You know what I think?” Lance was smirking now, all anger, “I think you’re projecting your own regrets of having joined Shiro onto me. And more so, I think you’re scared.”

Lance, apparently, was a little shit, “Oh really? What exactly am I scared of?”

“Easy,” The kid shrugged nonchalantly, “you’re scared I’m going to be a better Cub than you were.”

“Fuck off.” Keith seethed; how was this kid getting under his skin?

His reaction only made Lance’s smirk turn into a cocky grin, “And guess what? You’re right, Keith Kogane, I’m going to be the best Cub Gotham has ever seen.”

Keith stepped into his space, towering over the kid by several inches, “If you’re so sure, meet me in the training room and let’s see what you’ve got.”

“So I see you’ve met our newest resident, Master Keith.”

“Oh, hey Coran.” Keith moved away from Lance, and turned his attention to the family’s butler and- _shit_ \- Shiro, who had apparently just come in, “Shiro.”

“Keith.” Shiro gave the boy an unreadable look before beaming at Lance, “How are you settling in, Lance?”

At the man’s attention, Lance turned back to a preening ball of sunshine.

_Ugh_ , Keith thought, _fuck off._

“Oh, I’m doing great! I was just introducing myself to Keith, and he was offering to help with my trainings!” Lance remarked.

“Is that so?” Shiro stared appraisingly at Keith, “That’s very kind of him.”

“Right? How cool to be trained by the original Cub?” Lance suddenly turned to Keith, “You know, I don’t know why the tabloids are always saying you’re a dick, Keith, I think you’re great!”

Shiro tried to hide his snort behind a cough but Keith heard it. Lance had said it with such sincerity but his eyes were dancing with mischief.

_What a little shit._

“Well, it seems the lesson here is that you can never judge a book by its cover, young Master Lance.”

Keith snorted, _Yeah, no shit._

“I’m glad you two are getting along so well because, Keith I wanted to ask you if you would mind showing Lance around the estate and letting him know where everything is.” Shiro started walking into the smaller dining room.

Smaller, because it was the one they three of them usually ate in and wasn’t for entertaining guests, but was actually the size of the first floor of his family’s home. Mansions were odd.

Keith followed him in, as did Lance and Coran who were currently discussing any of Lance’s potential allergies.

“Why can’t you do it?” Keith huffed.

“Master Keith, that is most rude.” Coran reprimanded him.

“It’s alright, Coran. I get it; he’s busy with all of his cool, older kid stuff.” Lance did a weird, puppy-dog look that was ridiculous but seemingly worked on Coran and Shiro.

_Are you kidding me?_ , Although Keith had to admit the kid was good.

“Keith, I have some contacts I need to meet with tonight and it will be good bonding for you both.” Shiro gave Keith an imploring look, “I would really appreciate if you could do this for me.”

And there is was because if there was anything that Keith wouldn’t leap to do for Shiro, Keith still hadn’t found it yet. He was no longer his sidekick—he even had a new moniker and costume!—yet whenever Shiro requested, and Shiro was just a nice asshole who only ever asked, never demanded, something from him, Keith found himself back to that newly orphaned kid who was always wanting to make his mentor proud.

“Of course, Shiro,” Keith sighed lightly, “No worries.”

Shiro smiled, bright and happy, “Thank you.”

“So, when you say ‘contacts’, do you mean, like, normal stuff or,” Lance lowered his voice dramatically, “ _Black Lion_ stuff?”

Shiro barked out a laugh, “No, they are just some regular work clients I have to meet with. Important, nonetheless, though.”

Lance nodded, “Oh okay.”

“Master Lance, if it wouldn’t be a bother, could I request your company in cooking tonight’s dinner?” Coran turned, nodding toward the kitchen.

Lances eyes lit up, “Yeah totally! I love cooking. What are we making?”

“What would you suggest?”

The two walked away, discussing potential meal options.

“What’s going on?”

Keith turned back to Shiro, who’s tone was less than pleased. _Uh Oh._

“What do you mean?”

Shiro sighed, obviously not in the mood for Keith playing dumb, “Why were you two nearly about to brawl when Coran and I walked in?”

Keith flung out his hands, “Ask him! The punk nearly runs into me and then starts yammering about how he’s coming to usurp my spot, or whatever.”

Shiro’s eyes softened, “Keith, are you worried he’s going to replace you?”

“What the fuck, no!” _What the hell, Shiro_ , “I-”

“-Because no one can replace you, Keith. I hope you know that after all these years. Lance needs us, in the same way you needed me.” Shiro put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

That was interestingly vague, “What’s his story, Shiro?”

Shiro’s tone was somber, “His entire family was killed in a building explosion when he was young; he’s been living on the streets more or less since then.”

It was a sad story, sure, but sad stories in Gotham were the norm, and in a place that had an abundance of little street rats, it wasn’t really an explanation of how one managed to get adopted by multi-billionaire Takashi Shirogane.

Keith narrowed his eyes, “Okay but what is he doing here, as in our home, as in how did the little brat manage to score you as his meal ticket?”

“Keith!” Shiro’s tone was sharp, “That’s impolite. Lance has every right to be here.”

“Nobody has any right to anything in Gotham, Shiro—you should know that as well as I.” Keith sighed, “I’m not trying to be cruel—I just don’t get it.”

It was Shiro’s turn to sigh, as he rubbed tiredly at his eyes before giving Keith a sheepish look.

“Lance, may or may not have… picked my pocket.”

“What.” Keith stared in disbelief, “When? How?”

“It was a couple weeks ago. I’m not totally sure still.” Shiro flushed with embarrassment.

_Hm,_ Keith mused amusedly, _Gotham’s Dark Lion gotten good by a fucking kid._

Keith shrugged, “That’s either really impressive for him or means you’re getting soft, old man.”

“I’m only nine years older than you, Keith.” Shiro rolled his eyes, “Anyways, I could tell this kid had promise and thought better to hone it here than out there on the streets.”

“Rather your ally than your opponent, huh?”

Shiro bristled, “You don’t have to make it sound so conniving and underhanded.”

Keith held his hands up in surrender, “No, I’m just saying I get it. I’m sure there are a lot of people in this city who would’ve turned out a lot better if they had someone like you to take them in.”

“Well, thank you, I guess.” Shiro sighed, loosening his tie a bit, “Lance is a good kid, and I’m hoping that you can take him under your wing. Show him the ropes; help him to understand what is to be expected of him.”

“Why me?”

“It might help to come from someone closer to his age—since I’m such a dinosaur, as you like to remind me.” Shiro smiled good-naturedly.

“Nah, not a dinosaur. Just, really, really old.” Keith smiled.

“Ouch. You wound me, Keith.” Shiro clutched at his chest.

Keith shook his head in mock-disappointment, “I don’t think it bodes well for Gotham if her protector is so easily wounded.”

“Well, it’s a good thing she has you, too.” Shiro gave him a look, “And Lance, now as well.”

At that, Lance popped his head back in the room, “Hey, uh, Shiro? Coran told me to ask if you wanted to mix the salad, since he said you always complain how he does it.”

Shiro rolled his eyes, “I wouldn’t complain if he didn’t leave all the good pieces at the bottom of the plate.”

“You know, Coran is nearly perfect, statistically speaking, he _had_ to have a flaw.” Keith shrugged.

Shiro gave a heavy sigh and shook his head, “Yes, but does it have to be such a massive one?”

Keith barked out a laugh as Shiro left through the door, pausing to clap Lance on the shoulder, who was leaning casually against the frame. The kid was wearing an apron, which, Keith didn’t even know they owned any.

He cleared his throat, “So, what’s for dinner?”

Lance shrugged, picking at a piece of string on the apron’s pocket, “Oh, uh, just fajita soup. It should be ready in half an hour.”

Keith nodded, feeling awkward. He was never good with small talk or talk in any way that wasn’t antagonistic. He was good at fighting, had mastered several styles even before being taken in by Shiro, and anything outside of that realm was uncomfortable for him. Not to mention, he and Lance already had a rocky start—which was mainly on Lance’s part, Keith would argue. But Shiro wanted him to help this kid, so he had to try.

“Shiro told me how you two met, and I have to say, I’m impressed.”

“Really?” Lance perked up, pushed himself off the door, “I have to admit he wasn’t even my most difficult mark.”

Keith was surprised, “Why is that?”

“Rich people never pay attention to what they’re doing because everything they own is disposable.” Lance shrugged, “They can always buy a new watch, get a new card; there is always money in the bank.”

It was what most people saw when they looked at the shiny, plastic person Shiro pretended to be in front of the public—rich, playboy airhead who lucked his way into a successful company—but few people knew the truth. Keith didn’t think that’s how Shiro saw things—for him, those types of things just weren’t as important. When you experience the kind of loss he had, you learn that the smaller types don’t really matter in comparison.

“I have to admit, though,” Lance interrupted him from his thoughts, “I nearly pissed myself when he cornered me in his Black Lion suit.”

Keith snickered, “Did he do the whole deep voice thing?”

“’ _Hey kid_ ’” Lance lowered his voice dramatically, “’ _why do you think taking other people’s things is acceptable?_ ’”

“Oh my god.” Keith doubled over, laughing at imagining his mentor trying to put fear into Lance.

“It was terrifying, dude.” Lance shuttered, “I thought he was going to kill me, until he offered to get me and the kids something to eat.”

“We don’t kill actually.” Keith pointed out, wiping the tears from his eyes.

Lance nodded, “Yeah, Shiro explained that in his whole pitch. Which I totally get, like how warped do you have to be to take someone’s life?”

Keith shrugged, before the rest of Lance’s words caught up with him, “’The kids’?”

“Oh yeah.” Lance seemed cagey, “Well, the kids I lived with on the street. A few of us older ones decided to hole up together in one of the abandoned complexes and worked together to survive. We all did what we could to take care of each other, especially the ones who were too young to really help.”

“That’s pretty cool.” Keith tried to tamp down his surprise.

The boy actually looked embarrassed, “Nah, it was just what we had to do, you know? And we were mostly stealing—it was my turn to get the food and the money I was going to get from Shiro was for that, actually.”

Honestly, Keith had always the streets were full of people who only looked out for themselves, but Lance didn’t fit into that mold. Keith was lucky enough to grow up in a comfortable home with loving parents before his life has a vigilante—what Lance had been forced to endure were things Keith could never really understand, he realized.

Keith could tell the kid was uncomfortable and opted to switch topics “Since dinner’s not going to be done for a bit, I can show you the training room? Maybe even get a little sparring in?”

Lance nodded enthusiastically, “Oh, dude, of course!”

“Shiro is pretty good at tailoring exercise routines based on our specific skills and strengths,” Keith started walking out and towards the massive training area, Lance was following close behind, “Once he sees you train for a bit, he’ll be able to give you a more detailed regimen, but I can show you a few basic things to get you going.”

“Awesome! Although, I’ll warn you—” Lance gave Keith a wicked smirk, “This is just you contributing to your own downfall, Kogane.”

“Oh is that so, McClain?” Keith snorted.

“Uh huh, just you wait.” Lance beamed with a tinge of arrogance.

Confidence was key in their line of work, and Keith was happy to see that Lance had it in abundance.

Of course, humility was also important, so Keith didn’t feel too bad in knocking the kid on his ass ten minutes later.

 

**Author's Note:**

> You all were so sweet about the first one, so I decided to feed this monster and here it is.
> 
> I love characters who are so sweet but ya know are going to die a violent death, hence this prequel type thing.


End file.
